


My Last, Last Chance

by Twinkledash



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: (for the future timeline at least), ...but what if it was all about the SIDE characters, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Ending, Canon Rewrite, Disabled Character, Family Bonding, Family Issues, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Me: It's Free Real Estate, Original Mythology, Road Trips, Season 2 Rewrite, Team as Family, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Varian Redemption (Disney), Worldbuilding, me watching tts: wow this show is really good, tts: leaves a lot of it's lore open ended
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23115292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twinkledash/pseuds/Twinkledash
Summary: Years of work, research, and struggle has led to this. An honest to god last resort, a way to face this ruined future and walk backwards to a second chance.And so, the man stands on the cusp of change. Staring into time and space itself. He will turn back the clock, and for the first time in his life; the man will not fail.One last, final chance for the boy; for the man who would not give up, and who in turn gave up everything. His faith, his arm, his soul, and his mind. All gone, everything taken until the man found that he had nothing left to lose.But, he will finally have his way, he will prove everyone wrong, and he will make his father proud. No matter what.
Relationships: Adira & Hector (Disney: Tangled), Adira & Quirin (Disney), Hector & Quirin (Disney: Tangled), Quirin & Varian (Disney), Rudiger & Varian (Disney)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 42





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> i know i dont have the best track record with long fics but with any hope, this one will last more than a few chapters. the REAL first chapter is being edited rn and the second one is halfway written so i guess this isn't a bad start.

Even in a world of black, cold stone, there can still exist light. It can come in many forms, a man whose will is just as unyielding as the rocks that had claimed his home, an abandoned tomb left undisturbed by the world around it, and a set of plans left behind by the world’s greatest mind.

Add all of these separate lights together, and it might just be enough to make a miracle.

Or at least, that is what the man who plundered Demanitus’s grave and stole his long lost research believes.

He couldn’t care less for the world around him, nor of any foolish matter of “saving” it. He is not driven by anything so selfless and pure. No, this man is desperate, and he is greedy. Desperate enough to spit in the face of the “impossible” and greedy enough to steal back the life that was lost to him.

In front of him stands the fruits of his labor. The genius of the old and new worlds combined into one single machine. After all, even the best of the best can be improved on.

A portal created to warp space, invented millennia ago to combat and lock away evil. A groundbreaking invention for sure, but the man has no interest in it’s intended use. After all, there is no vengeance left to be found in this barren world, it died with the sun long ago. 

So the man, in his final stand against the fates laid against him, has tampered with the work of Demanitus.

Space and time, two sides to the same coin, they are so intertwined that surely, if one is possible; then why not the other?

The man is more than willing to cleave through the nature of the universe itself for his lost pride.

Years of work, research, and struggle has led to this. An honest to god last resort, a way to face this ruined future and walk backwards to a second chance.

And so, the man stands on the cusp of change. Staring into time and space itself. He will turn back the clock, and for the first time in his life; the man will not fail.

One last, final chance for the boy; for the man who would not give up, and who in turn gave up everything. His faith, his arm, his soul, and his mind. All gone, everything taken until the man found he that had nothing left to lose. But, he will finally have his way, he will prove everyone wrong, and he will make his father proud. No matter  _ what. _

  
A lever is pulled. An empty tomb lights up in blue. And a man disappears from the face of this Earth.  _ This _ is the start of a man-made miracle.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One last, final chance for the boy; for the man who would not give up, and who in turn gave up everything. His faith, his arm, his soul, and his mind. All gone, everything taken until the man found he had nothing left to lose. But, he will finally have his way, he will prove everyone wrong, and he will make his father proud. No matter what.
> 
> A lever is pulled. An empty tomb lights up in blue. And a man disappears from the face of this Earth. This is the start of a man-made miracle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gently breakdances* its chapter 1 time

The first chills of winter have somehow managed to creep their way through our house’s walls, sneaking past the fires Dad had surely lit earlier, and finally making their way down here to the depths of my lab. 

  


Though, I’m sure the numerous holes in our house’s structure helped the cold air come along. 

  


I spot a familiar blue glow from the corner of my eye, and my heart drops like a stone in dread. Looks like another rock has just grown in, surely adding another aforementioned hole in the process.

  


Letting out a mournful sigh that clouds the frigid air in front of me, I make my way over to inspect the damage. Dad won’t be happy to hear about another puncture in the house letting in the draft.

  


Splitting through the corner of my lab and piercing a mostly cleared table, is a sharp black rock that is just now starting to lose its mystic blue glow. One that now accompanies the numerous others throughout my town. 

  


A few months is all it took for these things to overwhelm the village. Stabbing through farmlands, livestock pens, households, businesses and water sources. The growth is indiscriminate, not even the people are...

  


I shake the thought from my head before it can finish. I know that my stomach wouldn’t be able to handle the morbid images that would soon follow if I let them. 

  


Getting discouraged at this point won’t do anyone any good. Least of all my village. 

  


“What do you say Ruddiger? Wanna give this another shot?” I ask my lab assistant/pet raccoon, picking him up by the armpits and settling him on my shoulders. He chirps in agreement and I move to start mixing chemicals.

  


While the carnage brought on by these rocks is horrid, they would still be manageable if not for their “magical” nature. Human-made means seem incapable of breaking or even simply scratching them.

  


The sharpest of blades forged by master blacksmiths shatter against the black surface. The heaviest of hammers wielded by the strongest of mortals crumble apart at impact.

Conventional methods have no hope of solving this. That’s why I know that I can break them.

  


“Magic” is just science that can’t be explained yet. Alchemy is a science that I’ve lived and breathed since birth. At some point, the only option becomes fighting fire with fire, and I’m the one who’ll be lighting matches.

  


In earlier attempts, I’ve used controlled explosives against the rocks, outside of my lab of course, to no avail. Blunt force and kinetic energy seem to do no good against them.  Turning to one of my workbenches, I begin to prepare the latest of my tests against the magical rocks: acid.

  


I start mixing the components, hydrogen fluoride and water, in a plastic beaker in order to create hydrofluoric acid. When handling this acid specifically it needs to be done with only plastic materials, as most glass and metal will dissolve. 

  


Needless to say, it’s a dangerous mixture and I probably shouldn’t be making it at home, least of all when I’m alone. But it’s because of acid’s high corrosivity that I’ve chosen it for today’s test.

  


Magic destiny rocks or not, they’re still  _ rocks _ . If they hold silicon oxide in their chemical makeup as many rocks do, then this acid should target them. As silicon oxide will melt in the presence of this chemical.

  


As long as I keep my rubber gloves on, which are immune to the acid’s effects, I should be fine. Safety measures are a MUST here, as hydrofluoric acid is just as capable of melting through flesh and blood as it is rock and metal.

  


Once Ruddiger and I are in a safe enough position, I tip the beaker over and bite my lips in anticipation of the upcoming reaction.

  


But somehow, nothing happens.

  


Instead, the translucent liquid just pours harmlessly over the black stone. Even as I wait in preparation for a late corrosion, they still stand just as infallible as they always do.

  


I sigh in disappointment before considering what this means about their makeup. There are only so many materials that won’t dissolve at hydrofluoric acid’s touch so this narrows down their compound by quite a bit. This is good! If I know what they are then I can get rid of them.

  


Nickel, nickel alloys, gold, platinum, and silver are the metals I can name off the top of my head that remain immune to dissolving like that. So if these things are actually “rocks” like they seem to be, then they should be related to one of those minerals.

  


Ruddiger’s frantic chitters and pointing pulls me from my train of thought. 

  


“AHH! THE FLOOR!!” The acid has dripped all its way down to the floor of my laboratory, the  _ stone _ floor of my laboratory. It was now starting to dissolve. Dad will NOT be happy about this.

  


I rush to another, unharmed, table in search of the neutralizer that I had prepared beforehand. There it is! Sitting in a metal bucket underneath the table and filled to the brim with a green liquid, I heft it up with all of my not quite mighty might and start wobbling closer to the spill.

  


Tossing the contents out onto the growing puddle of highly corrosive acid on the floor, the neutralizer starts to form into a foam once it has made contact. Sucking up the acid and keeping it away from anything it could harm. That should be enough to stop the melting.

  


Quickly checking for the remains of acid that might have slipped past, I find none and instead focus once again on the rocks. 

  


Because, even after all of this, the rocks are still the problem here. They are completely undamaged. Every last one of them is... indestructible, immovable, and constantly spreading. And none of my experiments so far have put a dent in them.

  


No one knows what they are, where they came from, or how to stop them. Well, correction,  _ I  _ know at least a little bit more about them than the average city folk. The princess of our fair kingdom, the “ _ magic”  _ princess I should add, enlisted my help not too long ago to study this phenomenon.

  


Rapunzel came to me and even let me call her by her  _ first _ name! I still can’t believe it some days. It’s like that just standing in her presence is enough to make you realize your place in the world. She’s just… she’s special. Special in ways that I’m not.

  


Like, you know what’s special? Having a mystic connection to these rocks! Her hair reflects their unbreakable nature and they both glow when in the presence of each other. It’s because of her that I’ve managed to figure out the rock’s exact path.

  


They are growing right for Corona, the capital. If I don’t figure out a way to get rid of these things soon I know that they’ll reach their goal, in just a few more months. The time limit isn’t encouraging but I’m sure alchemy holds the secret to these rocks.

  


I just need to figure it out.

  


Breaking me from my thoughts, another shiver racks my spine and leaves my teeth chattering as a result. Ruddiger curls tighter against my neck, acting as a makeshift scarf. Maybe I should ask Dad if I could use my hardening repair foam, the one that also serves as a good neutralizer, to seal up the house’s holes. Though, I already know the answer to that request...

  


A thousand different ways to say no, but none more soul-crushing than another. All of his words are completely equal in disappointment.

  


Okay to be fair, yes, I did in fact try this before when the black rocks had first started to tear across our village, and yes,  _ maybe _ the fumes released by the formula solidifying up were more toxic than expected… but I had solved that ages ago!

  


If he’d just give me a second chance, I know I could prove that I’m actually useful. That my experiments can lead to more than just destruction. 

  


And I know it doesn’t seem that way but… I’m working on it. One scrapped project after another, messy failure following failure, one day these will be a thing of the past. I’m going to prove myself. There is no “if” in the matter. Solving the secret to these rocks is my ticket in.

  


The muffled sound of the front door slamming closed breaks me from my thoughts. Dad must have finally gotten home… Swallowing both my fears and a mouthful of cold air, I decided to take a chance and try to convince him of my plans once more.

  


Maybe this time he’ll finally listen to me… and then after sealing up the walls I could get back to work on my warm running water project- just in time for the winter! Or maybe I should just get back to the rocks themselves.

  


But as I ascend the stairs I notice an unusual lack of noise. No quiet mumblings or footsteps echo above me as I exit my basement lab, and as I open the door and call out to my Dad in greeting, I hear no response. Not even his usual tired grunt of acknowledgment, which was becoming more and more common as I grew older.

  


Peaking around the corner I see no sign of him, or of anyone else for that matter. And the front door is shut and locked as it usually is.

  


“Ruddiger…” My fingers find themselves buried in his fur, offering both him and I comfort. “Did you hear that too bud?” I question quietly. He chirps in agreement next to my ear and I feel him start scurrying from side to side on my shoulders, clearly trying to scout out the situation.

  


My first thought is of course… oh, it must have just been the wind. They are getting terribly strong nowadays, signaling the upcoming storm. But, that can’t be right...

  


As I tug on the door handle I find that yes, it is still sealed and locked uptight. No matter how terrible the winds outside… they wouldn’t be able to open a locked door like that. Much less if the lock of said door doesn’t appear damaged. 

  


“Did someone break-in?” I ask while whipping my head around, getting a quick view of the entire room. But it’s to no avail, as I spot no mysterious intruders or phantoms.

  


Another wind bangs against the glass planes of our windows, making them rattle in their wooden frames. The sound is loud enough that I worry about their stability… but also find the source of this little mystery.

  


Obviously the windows were shaking enough for me to hear them even from all the way down in the basement, and since I was already expecting Dad to get home that’s just what my brain registered the noise as. 

  


A seed of worry still laid in my chest even after reaching this conclusion though. Something just felt… wrong. Like the calm before the storm. But, that may just be the actual calm before the storm we’re experiencing right now. 

  


Suppressing my anxiety, for now, I quickly check the windows to ensure they haven’t already been damaged. That, coupled with the holes in our building, would be a near-deadly combination for the winter. That is if it’s gonna be as terrible as it’s expected to be.

  


While the windows are holding their own for right now, I don’t have much faith in the future. 

  


Maybe I should get to work on an improved form of glass for our windows? I could even try to replicate a greenhouse effect to suck up whatever remaining warmth there is outside. 

  


But before I can go into mental detail about this possible future project, I’m distracted by a figure coming up the road to our house. It’s Dad and he almost looks more stressed than usual. This isn’t good, not if I want a chance to talk to him about fixing up the house with my inventions.

  


Oh! I know what might help him feel better. Hot chocolate! A creation of my own design that I’ve taken to drinking more and more as the temperatures continued to drop.

  


I should have some extra ingredients lying around somewhere in the kitchen…

  


As the front door opens for real this time, I am already elbows deep in the kitchen cabinets in search of the chocolate-y goodness that’s sure to cheer him up. Ruddiger is rummaging through the drawers opposite to me in search of the same treasure.

  


“Welcome back Dad!” I called over my shoulder while sorting through the different spices. I swore that I left it right here...

  


His exhausted hum is his own special greeting to me, as is the familiar sound of him collapsing onto one of the dining room chairs. Oof. He sounds even worse than usual… not that I can blame him.

  


I know not to talk about the rocks around him nowadays, it only serves to stress him out more. But I heard talk that he was finally going to see the king about fixing all of this. This won’t continue on for much longer if that’s true.

  


Even if Rapunzel didn’t come to me and ask to secretly work on stopping the growth of these things, I know Dad and the king together would be able to do  _ something _ .

  


But, it’s too bad that even the black rocks and the upcoming winter aren’t enough pressure for Old Corona. There have also been a string of strange thefts throughout the entire week. This is what I find myself asking Dad about, just as Ruddiger runs to me and points to the familiarly scented pouch of cocoa powder laying on the counter. 

  


Weird, I don’t remember leaving it out there. Dad doesn’t usually touch the stuff. Maybe Ruddiger just left it out for me after finding it? I suppose it doesn’t matter.

  


“Sooooo… Dad, have you found anything about that thief yet?” I speak up as I set a cup of milk over the already lit flames of the hearth. “Heh, I bet he’s already toast right?”   
  
“No Varian… there have been no new developments.”

  


“Huh?” Now that’s an actual surprise. I don’t think Dad’s had to deal with this much trouble all at once since… well maybe since forever. It’s not like Old Corona has the most memorable past, outside of me accidentally blowing up parts of it from time to time.

  


“B-But you’ve got all of Old Corona on the lookout for this guy… and the town is only so big. How could you all have missed him?”   
  
“I know. For someone to not only evade capture but to continue to steal while everyone’s on high alert... this mystery thief must know the village and it’s people like the back of his hand.” 

  


I hear him shift his weight before dropping his head to his palms. I can only assume he’s massaging his temple at this very moment, a gesture usually reserved for whenever one of my experiments goes wrong. “Which makes him all the more difficult to arrest.” He grumbles.

  


No kidding… the only way I could think to sneak around town like that would be to use the underground caverns. But, I’m the only one who knows about those tunnels so that can’t be it. 

  


Unless someone else found them by accident? I’ll have to look into it...

  


“What did he even steal again? Something about a whole caravan?” Just as the milk starts to bubble over I remove it from the heat by hand, with my gloves acting as makeshift oven mitts.

  


“That and a whole lot of other supplies. The caravan itself, it’s two horses, and everything on it was the first robbery. The riders couldn’t even offer anything useful, as they all passed out moments before the theft occurred for some inexplicable reason.” I begin mixing in the chocolate powder.

  


“Then crops started going missing in large amounts. Which is making it even harder to feed everyone in the village, as if all the acres of farmland lost to the rocks weren’t enough of a drawback… and we were already far behind our usual winter storage rates...” He trails off.

  


“If something doesn’t change soon, good people will go hungry if they stay here.”

  


That… certainly isn’t good news. If the thief is stealing enough produce to leave a dent in our food reserves, it must be for something more than a quick grab and snack. He’s either feeding a lot of other people or is storing up for something later.

  


“That sounds real rough Dad.” I sympathize while placing the still-warm cup in front of him. “Maybe I could uh, I don’t know, help out somehow?”

  


He already has a refusal at the ready, and I see it coming. Which sure says a lot about his faith in me... But before he has a chance to speak I steel my confidence, puff out my chest, and cut him off to continue my offer.

  


“I could set up some of those raccoon traps I made in the fields since they work on people too!” Rapunzel and Cass were proof of this thanks to their first visit. “Orrrr I could even check if the thief has been using the underground tunnels to get around?”

  


“No Varian.” And there it is. “It’s too dangerous.” 

  


For me or for the village Dad? Do you think they’re in danger every time I leave the house? Am I really that much of a disappointment to you? I yell in my head.

  


My Dad continues, “There’s too much that could go wrong with letting that… goop near the crops, it could prove toxic. Or it could just as easily ensnare the farmers instead, and they’d be stuck there until you could release them.” I open my mouth to protest, but he soldiers on. “And there’s no way I’d allow you to further explore the tunnels. They’ve only grown more unstable since your accident.” 

  


I snap my mouth close and my teeth grind against each other inside my head. Hunching forward, I try to hide my shame by taking up as little space as possible while Ruddiger nuzzles against my cheek in comfort.

  


I don’t know why I expected anything else, of course I wouldn’t be able to help anything or anyone.

  


“I’m sorry son, but it’s for your own good. Yours as well as the village’s.” 

  


“I know Dad… it always is.” My fists close around my pant legs underneath the table. It’s clear he doesn’t know what to do in response to this, as he almost reached out to comfort me before deciding otherwise with an unreadable expression plaguing his face. 

  


Instead, he just reaches out and takes a sip of his drink, and immediately grimaces. It looks like he isn’t a fan of hot cocoa after all...

  


The tension is thick enough to be cut by a knife, with the only sounds being Ruddiger’s occasional critter and the creaks of the house settling. Neither of us has the courage to speak up for what feels like years, or perhaps decades, but what is instead a few minutes. 

  


The near-silence is only broken off by a choked off cough from my father. He beats at his chest a few times in rapid succession to clear off whatever caused it. He looks a little bit off even after warding off another coughing fit. This is enough to break the atmosphere, as I find myself speaking up afterward in concern.

  


“Uh, you alright there Dad?” My voice is quiet, and just barely cuts through the room’s ambiance, as I still don’t have the courage to speak up further. 

  


“Fine just-” He takes a moment to fight off another cough into his fist, sliding the drink away from himself before speaking again. “Did you use expired milk for this Varian?”

  


“No? It’s from the batch this morning even.” I stand out of my chair, it’s screech drowning out my father’s wheezes. “I just had some earlier…”   
  
I find myself hovering by his side, hands up and without purpose as I simply don’t know what to do. The coughing would possibly indicate an allergic reaction but I know Dad doesn’t have any... if it wasn’t the milk, then the only other component would be the… “The cocoa powder!” 

  


Opening the pouch that I left laid on the floor opposite of the hearth, I finger through the fine grains of brown powder in search of anything that could have caused this. And indeed there is.

  


A sprinkle of what looks like black sand mixed in with the regular confectionery. It blended in well enough for me to miss it when first making the cup. I can hear Dad starting to cough more violently behind me.

  


“D-Dad it’ll be okay just hold on, I don’t know what’s happening but we uh- we just have to get you some help!” Pocketing the pouch, I stand up and rush to my father’s side.

  


My own panicked breaths are mixing in with his labored wheezes as I attempt to help him stand. Dad is so much taller and stronger than me, I can’t even lift him out of the chair as he instead leans against my frame and threatens to push me over. 

  


“No no no no no no no no no no no no NO.” I’m freaking out, I'm officially freaking out. This is all my fault I should have noticed something was wrong- I should’ve been able to help him out more than just a quick cup of comfort cocoa. 

  


If I wasn’t such an awful son he wouldn’t have been so stressed in the first place, he wouldn’t be coughing his lungs out on the dining room table if I had just been  _ better _ .

  


“I’ll grab the healer okay?? It’ll be fine just stay right there I’ll be right back!” This is the least I can do. I have to stop this, I have to help him.

  


Just as I reach for the door handle I hear the thump of a body hitting the floor and the sound of a drink being knocked over. My Dad on the wood beneath me, lying like a puppet whose strings have been cut, the chocolate liquid responsible for it all spilled around him, and the cup itself clattering in place after it’s fall. 

  


Abandoning the previous plan of grabbing a doctor, panic instead fully taking over, as I skid over to his fallen form. Unsteady hands grab at the back of his shirt as I shake, attempting to wake him.

  


“Dad come- c’mon wake up PLEASE!!” My voice cracks horribly at the last word. My blood feels cold underneath my skin and the now silence rings violently in my open ears. I reach to check his pulse, before realizing my gloves are too thick to pick up even the heaviest heartbeat.

  


Rushing to pull off my gloves, I’m interrupted by Ruddiger letting out a splitting hiss that brings my attention to him for a split second. He is puffed up in alarm looking at the space right behind me. 

  


Turning around and looking above me... I am left face to face with a man, or perhaps a monster, that I’m never going to be able to forget.

  


Bug-eyed goggles with spiked rims and a worn red face mask painted with a false dogtooth grin, giving the figure features straight from a nightmare. His dark rat’s nest of hair falling past his shoulders and enveloping his face. Dirty leather trench coat adorned with a variety of leather holsters and dotted with mysterious stains.

  


He is everything that children should fear and more, stitched together to make a single figure. One that I already wish I could forget about.

  


But despite the intruder’s nightmarish appearance, my eyes were instead drawn to his arm. A prosthetic that was far and beyond any other I’ve ever seen before. Not a common hook or a peg leg, but instead a fully functioning arm made of metal. 

  


Plates, parts, screws, nails, and wires. All connected together in order to create a limb that seems just as dexterous as it’s flesh and blood counterpart. If not for the dire situation I would have found the technology behind it  _ spellbinding.  _ And, to be frank, a small part of me still does.

  


I find myself on the verge of panic, staring up at the man as he looms over both me and my father with his otherworldly arm propped up against the table. I can't see his face, but I know he's smiling. Smug with confidence.

  


“Shame… I was hoping that trick would take out the both of you.” The man speaks at last, voice rough and gravely, but also surprisingly quiet. As if he’s not used to being heard.

  


Suddenly, green dust fills my vision and enters my lungs as I gape in horror. Black spots start to overpower the stinging green left in my eyes and I find myself already on the brink of unconsciousness. 

  


My arms flail forward in a pathetic attempt to shield myself as my legs turn to jelly beneath me. Failing before they could even attempt an escape.

  


“Oh well, I know how to make due... sweet dreams now little alchemist.” My vision blurs to black, with his painted grin being the last to disappear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lemme know if this was good or not. it's still just kind of a setup chapter but things will be more interesting next time. tumblr is still @TDDashie if you wanna follow me.

**Author's Note:**

> if you wanna follow my tumblr @TDDashie feel free but be warned... i think queues are bullshit and i switch hyperfixations faster than the eye can catch.


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